Fantasy 𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙚𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙘

[comfortable]

𝔟𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫

𝟘𝟙

𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

you must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame; how could you arise anew if you have not first become ashes - nietzsche

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔱 & 𝔳𝔬𝔴𝔰

A chilling storm settles over Haeloria, the early morning sun is shrouded by looming dark clouds. Glistening stones become tragically dangerous, as unsteady footing could lead to death. Rain bares down on a train of cadets climbing the stone steps up to the parapet. Forced into a deliberate dance, each movement is fraught with peril.

Upon reaching the bridge, names of all kinds are spoken like a curse into the air. The riders are quick and efficient with their quills, checking off names and nodding for cadets to pass. Sure not to spare a glance at each that approaches.

Stones playfully dislodge at random from their ancient crevices within the parapet, mockingly plummeting unfortunate souls into the yawning abyss below. Riders cling to their threadbare cloaks, retreating into their scant warmth. With eyes closed and minds furiously attempting to drown out the drumming rain, each breath is tainted with the scent of a daunting crisis.

Valamar War College peers down at the cadets, its presence dark and unyielding in its truth to cull the weakest from its flock. Just then, all lanterns flickered a hazy warning, silence fell over the group. By the dim glow of the lanterns, menacing silhouettes are slowly revealed by the tens. Growing closer their scales are slick with a baleful sheen.

They descend with the strength and pride of the gods themselves. Many cadets held their breath only releasing when more familiar silhouettes appeared alongside the dragons.

Eerily, the smell of fear and rain intertwine tainting the air around them. Across the parapet, some moved with grace and unparalleled confidence. And just as quickly as they arrived, the line on the parapet began to move.

© pasta

Spoiler: HERE

A chilling storm settles over Haeloria, the early morning sun is shrouded by looming dark clouds. Glistening stones become tragically dangerous, as unsteady footing could lead to death. Rain bares down on a train of cadets climbing the stone steps up to the parapet. Forced into a deliberate dance, each movement is fraught with peril.

Upon reaching the bridge, names of all kinds are spoken like a curse into the air. The riders are quick and efficient with their quills, checking off names and nodding for cadets to pass. Sure not to spare a glance at each that approaches.

Stones playfully dislodge at random from their ancient crevices within the parapet, mockingly plummeting unfortunate souls into the yawning abyss below. Riders cling to their threadbare cloaks, retreating into their scant warmth. With eyes closed and minds furiously attempting to drown out the drumming rain, each breath is tainted with the scent of a daunting crisis.

Valamar War College peers down at the cadets, its presence dark and unyielding in its truth to cull the weakest from its flock. Just then, all lanterns flickered a hazy warning, silence fell over the group. By the dim glow of the lanterns, menacing silhouettes are slowly revealed by the tens. Growing closer their scales are slick with a baleful sheen.

They descend with the strength and pride of the gods themselves. Many cadets held their breath only releasing when more familiar silhouettes appeared alongside the dragons.

Eerily, the smell of fear and rain intertwine tainting the air around them. Across the parapet, some moved with grace and unparalleled confidence. And just as quickly as they arrived, the line on the parapet began to move.

 

[comfortable]

mood :

happy?

location :

valamar college - coutyard

uniform :

none atm

mentions :

@

interactions :

@

the blue demon

;; akeron

Everything smelled different on Haeloria. The Veil’s mornings were forever imprinted in her mind, with the fresh scent of the ocean wafting over the island, mingling with the seasonal fragrances in the air. It comforted her, soothing something deep in her soul. But now, the wind shifted with the rain, carrying the thick, unmistakable smell of human fear, making her stomach lurch.

Akeron hated everything about Haeloria, especially Valamar College. The murmured chatter of the morning seemed to grow louder as more riders gathered in the courtyard. Violet armbands dotted the crowd, some standing close to their respective riders, others away from the congregating masses.

Her own armband assaulted her eyes, anger coursing through her veins. She shouldn’t be here. She felt as if she were wasting her time rubbing shoulders with humans and dragons who believed in some sort of camaraderie. Akeron’s eyes cut through the crowd, gliding from one face to another, searching for answers. Why? Her reason was sound, and once she completed her goal, she would devour the rider on her back and burn Haeloria to a crisp for their crimes. If the Elder Six wouldn’t act, she would take matters into her own hands.

Since the first light of dawn, Akeron had watched with scrutinizing judgment the mannerisms of the dragons within Valamar. Outwardly, they were her kind; they smelled like, and looked like it, but she felt something was different about these dragons. Would her own bond do the same to her? She looked away, the thought of bonding leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Through the misty fog and rain, the oil lanterns flickered on and off as dragons of all kinds descended from the dark sky, landing heavily around the circular stone wall encasing the courtyard.

Akeron turned away from the new arrivals, grimacing as the crowd erupted in applause. The first cadet arrived, his clothes soaked and shivering against the wind. With a rough pat on the back and a quick handshake, the rider was handed a silver three-headed dragon pin, a serrated knife with the royal insignia stamped on the leather, and a black armband. Through the whispers, she caught a familiar name: Laron Alden, King Valmar’s son. As her eyes landed on the boy, confidence dripped off him like sticky sap. Akeron rolled her eyes, crossing her arms; typical, humans overconfident about basic skills.

She wondered briefly what it would take to wipe that smug grin off his face. A smile spread over her lips as she imagined the satisfaction of feeling his bones crunch under the pressure of her jaws.

coded by reveriee.

 

[Abyss]

mood :

Considerate

location :

Courtyard

outfit :

mentions :

N/A

interactions :

N/A

The Dreadnaught

Tenebris

Humans were creatures prone to ritual celebration and this event bore all the marks of such an occasion. There was anticipation, fear, and excitement all over the faces of the crowd and participants both. It was an unlucky day for the cadets. The sky was choked by stalwart grey clouds and it had begun to rain, making their path even more hazardous. Tenebris recognized few of his own kind, but he was amused to notice that many of the dragons present were seemingly captured by the event as well; their necks arching towards the parapet as their attention was swayed towards the incoming cadets.

Across from the mix of dragons and riders, the new cadets ran the length of their first challenge. Tenebris felt within himself some respect for the effort of the cadets. Though he himself was not afraid of heights, he imagined it took some significant effort to cross the parapet knowing the slightest misstep could lead to sudden death. And it was not an honorable end. Those who fell below both disappeared from sight and from the mind of their compatriots. A kind-hearted scribe might bother to add their sacrifice as a footnote to the greater legacy of Valamar War College, but otherwise history would not remember them.

“That one is King Valmar’s son. See how well he moves across the parapet?" The rider next to Tenebris leaned in to speak with him more closely, as if they were well acquainted and not strangers meeting for the first time. Tenebris, despite himself, found that he was intrigued—if only because he kept an ear out for interesting rumors and knew soldiers to be equally as fond of gossip as the oft hennish-like flocks of old women he’d found occasionally helpful while on the hunt for new information in human settlements.

A round of applause erupted.

“It’s not surprising he’s first to finish the crossing,” Tenebris grudgingly contributed to the conversation. Although the man was tall for a human, Tenebris still had to tilt his head slightly downwards in order to better direct his voice so that he would not have to shout over the crowd and draw more attention to himself. “No doubt he’s been trained very well.”

“Only the best are permitted to ensure proper training of the heir.” Said the rider proudly and puffing out his chest a bit. Tenebris wondered if he had not been among that number granted such a ‘special responsibility’ or he was merely repeating someone else’s praise. “He is to be the future king, of course.”

Tenebris sighed, regretting his earlier display of interest. He listened with one ear only, as the rider continued to make points on the highlights of the prince’s performance. His eyes wandered across the parapet, watching as the other successful cadets finished their crossings or looking further out to watch with moderate interest as more were still in the progress of crossing. It was not an overly complex affair, but it was hard to call it dull when the consequence of failure was death. What was it like for a baker’s boy to run side by side in competition with the heir to the throne? What would happen if a low-born beat the future king? Now that would be interesting.

Nearby a green dragon gazed upon them with eyes like yellow sapphires. She did not appear interested in the other cadets, only Tenebris and the man next to him. Her expression was that of someone reluctantly restraining themself to an unpleasant task. Tenebris suspected it must be her rider that was talking to him. He did not think she approved.

“Yours seems to have wandered away from you,” Tenebris called out to her.

“You would be wise not to cause trouble. I could squash you now and none would challenge my right.”

“Talk of future-Kings is for humans or companions less irritable than I. My desire lies only in having my ears returned to me.”

The green’s eyes narrowed. Tenebris waited patiently.

To his credit, the rider finished his next sentence before he stopped to look in the direction of his dragon, as if he had heard someone call his name. It was curious to witness humans communicating with a dragon via telepathy—such a thing was impossible outside the dragon-rider bond—but Tenebris did not linger. The distraction only lasted for the briefest of glances, but given the large crowd it was enough time for him to slip away and put several bodies between them. Freed from the burden of unengaging chatter, Tenebris walked through the crowd.

Tenebris would not typically feel odd among a gathering—even ones much larger than this— except that this was the first occasion in which his true identity was partially known by those he was attempting to blend with. Although he had worn the indigo-armband without fuss, the more secretive part of his nature longed to take it off or make it less visible. However that would defeat the purpose, so it was with a curious examination of the nonplussed riders and their dragons that he went along with the instruction to leave his identifier as it was. He found himself a spot near the back from which he could still observe the events clearly, but the mood amongst observers was more tame.

It still felt…odd.

In hindsight, he might eventually realize that it wasn’t as simple as an armband which caused him this feeling of unease which hummed under his skin.

coded by reveriee.

 

[Canni.Cat_27]

mood

❝ Uneasy ❞

location

Courtyard

outfit

Dragon

tags

here

GRUVOS

Gruvos glided in the air, he would be late if he didn't hurry up, he squinted his eyes in the rain, picking up the pace as his wings sent winds through the air, he stuck close to the foliage before eventually ascending once he neared the courtyard, circling the area a few times as he descended once again, managing to land as softly and quietly as he could, right as Laron Alden reached the courtyard. He scoffed lightly, a small snort emitting from his mouth as he watched the human receive his items. The dragon shook his wings, glancing around to ensure he wasn't getting anyone else near him even more soaked in the process, before tucking them in in a fluid motion.

His heart was thumping in his chest, not just from the exercise of reaching the ceremony timeously, but also out of the rising anxiety towards bonding once again. This was completely different to the last time, he had no excitement towards this process, this was simply a replacement, a means of returning to what once was, if it would ever even be possible. A sense of impending dread and doom overcame his general anxiety, fueled by the stench of human fears and anxieties, Gruvos was used to this, it was, however, the familiar, yet extremely unwelcome, scent of juvenille and immature excitement that irked him. He swung his head around to stare at the rest of the dragons, some showing excitement, others bothered expressions, disgruntled and unimpressed with the weather. He sighed.

Staring straight ahead again, and glaring at the cadets as they reached the courtyard, Gruvos couldn't help but wonder and worry once again, How long would this rider last? Would they be just as impulsive and irresponsible as his last one? Would he ever allow such a mindless concept of human-led honour guide the path to their downfall once again? He bared his teeth, trying to fight off his worries just for the time being, seeing as he hadn't even met anyone from the group yet. Gruvos focused on one thing now; making completely sure that he was strategic in his picking, he could not allow himself to become emotional over something so important. He must not choose just because he wants the familiar past to return to him in the name of comfort and happiness. Comfort was non-existent in a war, it will not save you from death.

Gruvos eyed nearby conversations, noting the fact that some, or most, dragons had opted for human forms, and promptly rolled his eyes, such a form was only used by Gruvos when necessary; he was a dragon, he would maintain his dignity in his identity. Not to mention how embarrassing the armbad was, how it made him feel even more like a mere tool, uniform was a pain to handle, the strict regulations surrounding how it must be displayed was something he did not feel like fighting over now either. The dragon laid down, maintaining his unsure and unwavering gaze towards the stream of cadets now entering, a slight sense of curiousity ignited within him, which one would end up being his rider? He only hoped it would be a sustainable bond.

coded by reveriee.

 

[ComplexDragon]

mood :

Anxious, excited

location :

Valmar College

outfit :

mentions :

interactions :

The Lost Princess

;; Cordelia

“Your life is just beginning.”

Those were the words Anya whispered to Cordelia right before she ascended the steps that would take her to the parapet. And the ones she clung to now. Standing thousands of feet above the ground behind a train of other hopeful cadets, they provided more warmth than the threadbare cloak around her shoulders. Especially as the rain practically cut through her clothes, soaking them and chilling her to the bone. Whatever higher power controlled the weather was not smiling down on them today. Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut, whispering frantic prayers. She would not die today. Not when this was barely the beginning of everything her nineteen years of life had been preparing her for. Garthen and Anya would not read her name on the death roll today. She was a rider. Not a mewling cadet.

The hopeful in front of her stepped up to the precipice. He was about her height but looked as though he had never had a good meal in his life. The wind howled as if in protest as a rider checked him off the list and motioned for him to step forward onto the parapet. Her heart lodged in her throat. Cordelia tore her gaze away from him. She would not watch the baleful wind send the boy into the jaws of the chasm below.

“Cordelia Tharna.” Her voice came out more like a prayer rather than a declaration like she had hoped. But there would be time to prove her prowess after she crossed this death trap.

The rider nodded, barely sparing a glance at her. “Good luck.”

Something about their tone of voice sent a shiver down her spine. Or perhaps it was from her sodden limbs and the howling wind. Either way, she stepped up to the precipice. The world around her was a wall of gray. Gray rocks, clouds, and the giant looming structure of Valmar College. Behind its walls lay everything. Her hopes and dreams, and the very future of her country.

How disappointing would it be for her to fall to her death now? She would be nameless. A nobody. The Jasuu line would die with her.

“No.” She whispered. “You are a queen. Now act like one.”

Shutting her eyes, she imagined she was out on the bow of a tree. Where she had practiced with Garthen standing beneath her. Opening her eyes once more, she fixed her gaze on the college, stepping out onto the slick rock.

She had intended to run across, but even her boots, with their solid soles, were precarious on the slippery granite. So instead she held her arms out for balance and kept her back straight and her head high, centering her gravity in her core.

The roar of her pulse practically drowned out the wind. And she held her breath with every step.

Any one could be her last.

The wind assaulted her from all sides and the rain continued its relentless battery against every inch of her. She might as well have been naked for all the good her clothes were doing. But she couldn’t think about that now. Instead, she imagined herself in the summer sun, walking across the bow of a willow tree.

“Atta girl, Rory. Keep your head high and your stomach tight.”

Cordelia whimpered, her little knees knocking together. “But what if I fall?”

“Princesses don’t fall. And you’re a princess are you not?”

Thunder clapped. There was a squelch as her boot skimmed across a particularly wet rock. Time slowed to a crawl. Cordelia’s heart hammered against her chest as she tilted to the left. Loose rocks skittered into the yawning darkness below.

Apparently, princesses do fall. And this time, Garthen would not be able to catch her.

“I am Princess Cordelia Jasuu, heir of Laceravian, the only daughter of Cleo Alden. And I will not die today.” The words were quickly captured by the wind, but it gave her just enough clarity to dig her stable heel into the rock below and pull herself back upright. Tightening her core and stabilizing her legs, she locked her eyes on the college again.

Steeling herself, she forced her feet to move. This time focusing her energy on placing her feet down with purpose. This was not child's play anymore. This was real life. With real consequences.

I am Princess Cordelia Jasuu. And I will not die today.

Another step forward.

I am Princess Cordelia Jasuu. And I will not die today.

The rocks underneath her feet crunched.

I am Princess Cordelia Jasuu. And I will not die today.

The college grew larger and more imposing.

Over and over she whispered the mantra Anya and Garthen had ingrained into her mind as a young child. When she was terrified and needed reassurance things were going to be alright.

Finally, taller structures rose around her as she stepped onto solid ground, where a female rider held another paper. Cordelia’s legs nearly gave beneath her, but she forced herself to stay upright. A small smile quirked on the lips of the rider. “Name?”

“Cordelia Tharna.”

A three-headed silver dragon pin, a serrated knife with the royal insignia stamped on the hilt, and a black armband were thrust into her hands by another rider. “Congratulations, cadet.”

The weight of the words came crashing down on her and it took everything in her not to scream with joy. She had done it. She had actually done it. She was no longer a hopeful, she was a real cadet. Soon enough she would be a rider.

Her eyes scanned the people around her. Black armbands and indigo armbands peered up at her from the sleeves of the various cadets standing on the grounds. Most barely spared her a glance. But keeping her head high, she strode farther into the courtyard, straining her ears to catch the conversations around her.

“Do you see him?”

“Yes. That’s the future king.”

Cordelia’s heart stuttered and red-hot anger bubbled to the surface as she scanned the crowd once more. It was certainly too much to hope that the boy had been among those to fall on the parapet. He probably had the best trainers and tutors in the country. And was likely one of the healthiest too.

She soon found the person she was looking for.

A blond-haired boy, not much older than she, stood off to the side, talking to a few other rain-soaked cadets. He looked almost exactly like she imagined and nothing like it at all. But regardless of what he looked like, she still desperately wanted to drive her knife right into his chest.

However, that would have to wait for a later day, since murdering the heir to Laceravian on her very first day as a cadet would most definitely result in her losing her own life as well. So for now, she would have to watch and wait. And prove to all the self-important riders and cadets here that she was a force to be reckoned with.

Laron Alden could run home to his daddy with news of a young upstart who took him down. She would enjoy that indeed.

coded by reveriee.

 

[Jesster]

mood :

strangely well behaved

location :

valmar war college

outfit :

mentions :

interactions :

The Escort

;; venus

One thing you learn growing up with nothing is how to make do with everything.

Whether it is a mother’s rage, or crimson fist thrown your way; perhaps it is a hunger you cannot stave away or sheltering yourself from flaky droplets of snow that stick to eyelashes and hair while you wonder if the divine beings above simply despise your very existence. And they do, they really do. You’ve learned this the past couple of years and it will stick with you til death which has become a dancing partner rather than something to fear. You have befriended him those days in which food was a stranger and money was a myth, brief encounters usually interrupted carving mould out of bread, or finding the energy to crawl from dilapidated hardwood flooring to drink a cup of foggy water that will keep you satiated for at least a couple more days.

Today it serves useful as pleated leather defies rain that would hug the body in frigid ice, practice of finding rocks that will not slip under your feet, coat of apathy hanging off like a coronation robe that belonged to the king.

Speaking of which.

There was word of the prince and a rather loud applause of clapping, so even he who cares for so little could not stave off curiosity. Stygian irises slid to meet a rather unassuming prince and they rolled back. He took back his interest almost as quickly as it came. There was nothing special about their heir. He didn’t particularly despise Haelorian royalty, but he did not hold them in special regard in the slightest. The confidence that slid off him was almost sickening, but self preserved Venus who held himself so highly had the slightest respect.

If you cannot depend on yourself, if you cannot put that amount of faith in yourself, then how are you to live amongst man eaters and vipers?

Pulling his hood up over his face, while the colleague stood intimidatingly in front of him the silhouette’s of dragons and humans alike becoming more clear his gaze does not meet the riders who are adamant of ignoring their existence. If that is their tactic he will do the same.

“Venus Konohana,”

Bite soothed with honey, the name strikes out with little meaning. For all anybody knew he was nobody and the escort preferred it that way. If he could remain a face without any semblance, then perhaps he could continue surviving in the prison of solitude where he had chained himself, holding the keys to his release.

For now, though, he would hold the black armband so graciously handed to him with a sense of pride that soothed and stroked ego as he took his place among other aspiring riders, and dragons opting for the back of the crowd for a narcotic enjoys watching his prey from afar rather than upclose.

coded by reveriee.

 

[matcha girl]

mood :

out of place...

location :

valmar war college

uniform :

none

mentions :

interactions :

The Pure White

;; kronos

Kronos was begrudgingly present at the ceremony.

While he didn't particularly want to be there, there was something about the atmosphere and tension around that piqued his curiosity. It was hard to tell what made Kronos feel more tired, whether it was the irritating wind that clung to his clothes and skin like a second layer of cloth, or the constant hum of human and dragon emotions, blending together into an overwhelming symphony of noise that left his head throbbing.

His senses were assaulted at every turn, as if the world itself had conspired to wear him down.

He found a small sliver of space amongst the mass of people gathered in the courtyard, just enough space for him to breathe and take in his surroundings without being completely enveloped by the throngs of humans and dragons. Standing slightly to the side, he leaned his broad shoulders against the cold stone wall, his eyes slowly scanning the crowd.

As he settled into his thoughts, a faint melody escaped his lips. He found himself intrigued by the variety of people and dragons gathered.

He took in the scene with a mix of curiosity and detachment, his mind mulling over something silently. His gaze wandered across the faces of the humans and dragons around him, pausing here and there on some of the more interesting individuals. Despite his detached air, there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes, a hint of a question he was silently pondering.

As the applause rang out through the courtyard, he found himself reluctantly drawn away from his thoughts. His eyes flicked towards the source of the noise, landing on the figure of King Valmar’s son. The prince walked slowly through the crowd, his every step oozing self-importance. His shoulders were held back, as if the weight of his own arrogance was too much to bear.

His self-assured manners piques Kronos interests, there was something about the prince's smugness that made him raise an eyebrow, a flicker of interest in his otherwise cool gaze. He found himself studying every move, every word, as if searching for some secret beneath the surface. It was clear that the prince thought highly of himself, and Kronos couldn't help but wonder if there was substance behind the bravado.

Humans are always such interesting creatures.

Their confidence, their brashness, their endless pride in themselves, it all gave them a magnetism that was hard to ignore, even if they were ultimately just humans.

coded by reveriee.